


It's a Miracle to be Held by You

by Sammy_is_obsessed



Category: The Penumbra Podcast
Genre: Anjimile's music is seriously so good!, Canon Non-Binary Character, Cuddling, Fluff, Other, a frankly obscene use of pet-names, but it's nothing too intense, dialogue-heavy, jupeter, like a ton of fluff, mostly this is just these two cuddling and being total saps, there's just a hint of angst, title from the song '1978' by the wonderful Anjimile, would you expect anything else of Peter Nureyev?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-26
Updated: 2020-12-26
Packaged: 2021-03-10 23:22:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,625
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28335348
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sammy_is_obsessed/pseuds/Sammy_is_obsessed
Summary: “Stop that,” Juno says. The thief raises a well-manicured brow.“Stop what, Juno?”“Looking at me like that,” he says, though his words are tinted with humor, “Like I look like a million creds or something.”“Only a million?” Nureyev counters, rising from the bed and placing his hands on Juno’s shoulders. “I mustn’t be looking at you correctly then, my dear detective. You’re worth far more than that.”
Relationships: Peter Nureyev/Juno Steel
Comments: 23
Kudos: 152





	It's a Miracle to be Held by You

Quiet has long since settled over the Carte Blanche, everyone having retired for the evenings. Here Peter Nureyev sits, in Juno’s room, in Juno’s bed. Forgive him if it’s still almost too much to comprehend, the love he’s received and given in these last months.

His lady is finishing getting ready for bed, the sound of an electric toothbrush buzzing through the bathroom door.

Juno’s _his_. Sometimes Nureyev wonders what he would give to tell his past self that someday, he’d be with him again. To tell himself that night, when Juno had left him, all alone –

But those thoughts are most unpleasant, and ones that he and Juno have already discussed in great detail. It will never be easy to face the past; Nureyev has long since faced that harsh reality. No matter how much either of them wishes otherwise, Juno _did_ leave, and Nureyev _was_ alone, and that hurt him for a long, long time.

He isn’t alone anymore. The very thought fills him with more relief than Juno will ever know.

Juno emerges from the bathroom, wearing a loose-fitting T-shirt and a pair of ratty shorts. No matter how he’s dressed, Nureyev sees him as nothing less than a Goddess.

“Stop that,” Juno says. The thief raises a well-manicured brow.

“Stop what, Juno?”

“Looking at me like _that_ ,” he says, though his words are tinted with humor, “Like I look like a million creds or something.”

“Only a million?” Nureyev counters, rising from the bed and placing his hands on Juno’s shoulders. “I mustn’t be looking at you correctly then, my dear detective. You’re worth _far_ more than that.” Juno snorts.

“I’m wearing a tie-dye shirt. I’ve got eyebags _under_ my eyebags, and –.”

“And you’re radiant as ever,” Nureyev interrupts, “You always are.”

Juno shakes his head, but he’s hardly holding back a laugh as he wraps his arms around Nureyev’s middle and presses his face into his chest, the thief pulling him into a firm embrace. Nureyev has several inches on him, even out of heels, so that when they hold each other like this his chin rests on the top of Juno's head. It's decidedly very adorable, and they both know it. 

“Sap.”

“And you mean to tell me you _aren’t_?” He can feel Juno smiling against him; God, he will never, ever get over the beauty of that smile. 

“I didn’t say that,” Juno says, the statement followed by a yawn.

“Tired, my love?”

“Mmm,” is the resounding answer Nureyev receives, muttered into his chest.

“Then we’d best get into bed, hm?” Juno shakes his head, clinging tighter to him. “Come now, detective. You’re clearly very sleepy, and you get rather agitated when you’re tired.”

“I do _not_ get agitated.”

“Would you prefer vexed, then? Grumpy, perhaps? A curmudgeon. Really dear, I can go on.” Juno groans.

“None of those, thanks. I just wanna… hold you for a minute.”

Nureyev laughs, the sound bright and boisterous. He’s found himself laughing like that quite a lot as of late. It’s not uncommon for him to fake such emotions when on a heist; he’s a wonderful actor, and he knows as much. But this isn’t fake, it never is with Juno.

“I do believe we’re perfectly capable of holding each other in bed, don’t you think?”

“…Maybe.” 

Nureyev smiles, pressing a kiss into Juno’s tight curls.

“Come on. I’m not sure about you, but I’d rather not fall asleep standing up.”

“Guess not,” Juno concedes, the exhaustion a little more evident in his voice.

Juno pulls away slowly, as though they are not about to be embracing again in a matter of seconds. And then, once they’ve shut the lights out and curled under the cover, they are.

Nureyev lays his head on the detective’s chest, Juno’s arms wrapping around him and pulling him as close as two people can possibly be (He will always wish to be a little closer than that). He leans upward, pressing a kiss to Juno’s jaw. His lady hums contently.

“How’d I get so damn lucky?”

Nureyev barely notices he’s voiced the thought. It’s something that’s come to mind quite a lot lately. He wonders if when he wakes to see Juno, bleary-eyed and groggy, when they’re on heists and his lady is dressed to the nines, and every time he looks into his eyes. Love is not something that Nureyev thought he would become so accustomed to, not like this, but it feels so _easy_ with Juno. He loves him effortlessly; he’s positive he wouldn’t be able to stop if he tried.

Once upon a time, he _had_ tried.

Now though, Juno is back in his life. They work together. They live on the same ship. They sleep in the same bed. Even under a mountain of debt and a ‘family’, he’s sure for the most part can’t stand him Peter Nureyev has never been happier.

“I could ask you the same question.”

“I mean it,” he continues, “The moment I saw you, half hanging out the window–.”

“Ugh, don’t remind me,” Juno cuts in, and Nureyev can _hear_ the grimace that’s surely settled over his face.

“– I knew you were incredibly special… And I also noticed you had a _wonderful_ ass, but that’s hardly the point.”

Juno swats his arm lightly, and Nureyev distantly wonders if he’ll ever get used to feeling so happy.

“What’s got you so mushy tonight?” Juno asks as if they aren’t both rather ‘mushy’ most of the time. it’s hardly a fair question; getting lost in his feelings for Juno Steel is something that Peter Nureyev finds himself doing on the regular. Juno’s running a hand through his ruffled hair, massaging his scalp and reminding Nureyev that right here, in this cramped, somewhat uncomfortable bed abord the Carte Blanche he feels entirely at ease.

“Just appreciating you, my love. Have you got a problem with that?”

“Obviously not.”

They’re quiet for a long time. Nureyev assumes Juno’s nearly asleep, if not already there, the hand in his hair having stilled. He’s just begun to close his eyes when Juno speaks.

“Nureyev?”

“Yes, Juno?”

“I, uh, appreciate you too, y’ know? I love you. I mean, I _know_ you know, it’s just –.”

Nureyev’s lips curl into a smile as he holds his detective a little tighter.

“I love you too, darling. And I know you do. Of course, I know that. But I will never tire of hearing it.”

He won’t. Not in a billion years.

Nureyev arches upwards, kissing Juno’s cheek once, and then the corner of his mouth, his lips lingering for a moment.

“ _Nureyev_.”

“Yes, love of my life? My angel, my muse?” Nureyev asks, faking innocence (quite poorly, as far as Juno’s concerned) 

“I thought we were going to sleep?”

“We are,” Nureyev says, pressing his face back into Juno’s chest, but not before pressing his lips to the detective’s collar bone, “What? I can’t help that you’re entirely too kissable for your own good.”

“What’re you buttering me up for? Gonna take my wallet out of my pocket when I’m not looking? I hate to break it to you, but I don’t keep any money in my pajamas.”

Nureyev chuckles.

“Oh, darling, if I’d wanted to rob you blind, I would’ve already done so. Except… there is one thing I am rather intent on stealing.”

“And what, pray tell, is that?”

“Your heart.”

It’s about as cheesy of a line as they come, but Nureyev means it all the same. He never has and never will regret being a sappy fool for his lady. Juno lets out a comedically long groan.

“You’re never going to stop being like this, are you?”

“Did you want me to?”

“… no.” Nureyev grins.

“And how’s about that heart of yours? What are my chances of scoring it?”

The detective mutters something under his breath. Nureyev’s smile widens, sharpened canines surely on display. 

“I’m afraid you’re going to have to speak up dear.”

“It’s already yours, you idiot,” Juno grumbles just above a whisper.

“Ah, so I’m an idiot!” Nureyev cries, a tad too loudly for the time of night, doing his best to ignore the sudden heat of his cheeks, “Will the insults never cease?”

“That depends.”

“On what?”

“If you shut up and go to sleep.”

Nureyev pauses, as though he’s mulling it over long and hard. Juno grumbles again, poking him on the cheek.

“You gonna be quiet now, or what?”

“I’m considering it.”

“I could kick you out, y’ know. This is _my_ room.”

Nureyev’s octopus-like grip on his detective tightens, arms wrapped around the lady’s waist and his legs tangling with Juno’s.

“Good luck getting rid of me, my love.”

Juno sighs, intending to sound exasperated, but all that comes through is fondness, then moves in search of Nureyev’s Hans. Once found in the darkness, be laced their fingers together, ringing their joined hands to his moth to kiss his love’s knuckles. He knows well of Nureyev’s affinity for kisses on the hand, and who is he to deny him such things? 

“That wasn’t your best lie, dear detective. Threatening to kick me out like that? You would _never_.”

“You’re right, I wouldn’t. I’m stupidly fond of you,” Juno says, the last few words muddled with a yawn. Nureyev squeezes his hand.

“What an incredible coincidence. It seems I’m stupidly fond of you too.” Nureyev says, kissing Juno one final time for the night, feeling himself beginning to drift off.

“Goodnight, Juno, my love.”

“Night ‘Reyev,” Juno mumbles, shutting his eye and allowing sleep to come to him. Nureyev does the same, perfectly happy knowing he’ll wake to Juno by his side. For now, though, it’s a miracle just to be held by him.

=+=

**Author's Note:**

> This was my first try at writing these two. Juno and Peter Nureyev occupy a very special part of my heart and it was a joy to write them. I would love to hear what you thought, and kudos are always very apprecaited. Have a wonderful day/night!


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